


A Gathering Peace

by myfavorite26



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Kings Rising, enemies to lovers to friends to lovers, secondary Damen/Laurent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfavorite26/pseuds/myfavorite26
Summary: Nikandros couldn’t blame what had happened with Jord on anything more than the need for an outlet, a release, and they had both been able to find that in the other’s body. But they had also found a confidant, man of their own mind, and for Nikandros he had found someone who had been the first person he wished to bring to bed in a very long time. A man that had moved something within him in their short time together. A man that had given much, but had held even more back.





	A Gathering Peace

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting on my computer for almost two years and I never thought I'd put it out there for anyone to read but I haven't been able to get this pairing out of head since reading the books so here it is. Damen and Laurent are definitely secondary characters, this is a story about Jord and Nikandros. Un-beta'd and probably not exactly canon compliant. Thank you for reading!

Nikandros watched the set of the other man’s shoulders. The relaxed nature and sloping lines could be mistaken for ease, but the last three weeks had shown him otherwise.

No, Jord was resigned to what the morning had brought, as was Nikandros himself.

“It really is beautiful here.” Jord said continuing to face the sun rising over the sea, sensing his presence without having to turn around.

“You’re only realizing that now?” He asked walking up behind Jord, wrapping an arm around his naked waist before continuing, “Although I suppose I haven’t given you much opportunity to see it.”

“No, I suppose you haven’t, and now we’ve lost our chance.” Jord said it with a finality Nikandros couldn’t argue with. He knew, they both knew, that this final sunrise was the end.

He understood it. And yet there was a feeling in his chest that fought with everything it had to stop the inevitable. Jord would leave in a few short hours and even though they would see each other again, it would never be like this.

It would never be the two of them talking of military strategy, of which they both had the same mindset. They wouldn’t argue about wine ever again, Nikandros was sure his opinion was much better than Jord’s. They would never battle for dominance in the practice ring. Or in bed. He would never again feel Jord’s body underneath him, hear the way he gasped as he came, or melt against Nikandros for those moments after the height, before he would shut him out and try and move away from him.

He had never let him, making sure Jord was in his arms before falling asleep each night. They may not have known each other very long or meant more to each other than a release, but Jord had always felt right in his arms, and he tried to keep the shorter man there for as long as he could.

Between putting down the last few pockets of resistance in the city, sitting for hours in conference with Damianos’ advisors, and trying not to strangle Laurent, the few hours left in each day after the sun had gone down were spent with Jord in the bed they had just vacated. There had been no time left to show the man standing in his arms the city he grew up in.

Jord took in a breath before turning and facing him, returning the intimacy as he wrapped an arm around his waist, “Though I won’t complain about how we’ve spent our hours together.”

There was no kiss to follow this statement, no sign of continued affection beyond the arms twined around each other. Jord was returning to Arles with Laurent in a few hours. They were to begin the long process of trying to combine two kingdoms that at best distrusted one another, at worst despised everything the other stood for.

It was not going to be easy. The chance for violence that could arise at any moment had everyone on edge. The first two weeks after the death of both Kastor and the Regent had been euphoric for most. Akielos’ people celebrated the return of their dead prince like only they could. Laurent had quickly and quietly removed the Vere army, now under his control, and had stayed mainly in the palace with Damen as he recovered.

Nikandros spent those first few days leading the guards who were in charge of securing the city. Most of Kastor’s supporters’ turned sides quickly, some resisted and were summarily arrested, but a few fled and went into hiding in the city attempting to rouse support in the shadows. Fortunately, they were easily found and the city had firmly remained peaceful.

Then the rumors began. Spread by witnesses to the mockery of a trial that had led to both the Regent and Kastor’s downfalls. Servants and squires from the palace perpetuated that their beloved prince was in close confidences with the to-be-crowned king of Vere. Even with the Veretian army removed from Ios, the distrust of anything from the land to the North stoked the fire of discontent.

The three weeks that followed the release of these rumors, the three he had spent in bed with Jord, were tension filled and demanding when outside of his bedroom. Laurent was advised to leave but refused, in only the way he could, until Damen was recovered enough. The city itself seemed to be in a forgiving mood because of their love for Damen. The people here had been at the center of the unrest. They lived through the chaos of losing both their king and prince, through Kastor taking the throne, and then watching as he welcomed the enemy into their city. The trust they had in Damen waivered with the continued presence of Laurent in their city, but the peace of his return kept them from rioting.

The rest of the country did not take so lightly to the enemy prince being in Damen’s bed. Once the rumors had left the city and spread, representatives from almost all corners of the kingdom descended upon the capitol. Damen had left his recovery bed to see each of them.

Nikandros had sat in on those meetings, as well as all the ones that followed with Damen’s other advisors. He seemed to have spent the last few weeks of his life listening to Damen reassure his countrymen that imminent disaster was not upon them because of the blonde sitting to his right. Nikandros was not sure he could agree with his best friend.

Jord had been a solid apparition in every meeting as well; acting as counsel, and security for his prince. Nikandros had not heard one word from the shorter man during any exchange, but his eyes never stopped observing all in the room. Before knowing him Nikandros would have guessed Jord was the brawn to Laurent’s brain. The weeks spent with the man before entering Ios had proved otherwise and Nikandros had approached Jord late one evening after another long and pointless meeting.

He knew Jord had a clever mind and was able to organize his thoughts better than any captain Nikandros had met before. He wanted to get the Veretian’s thoughts on all that he had seen and heard. If he hadn’t known that Jord understood his language as well as he did the look the other man gave him would have made him believe he was speaking nonsense.

Jord eventually answered, though in his own tongue.

“Do you want me to tell you my thoughts, or what His Highness is thinking?” the note of distrust in Jord’s voice was surprising to him.

“I only want to hear what you wish to share with me.” Nikandros answered in Veretian, unnerved by the thought that Jord was distrusting of his motives.

Jord looked hard at him seemingly trying to scrutinize Nikandors’ true intentions while maintaining the cool Veretian exterior he sought to put forth. Nikandros was not sure where that had come from but it wasn’t the first time it had appeared. He thought, had hoped they were beyond that now. Maybe sitting for so many hours listening to the vileness that was spewed toward his prince and country brought Jord’s already high defenses back up.

“I think that your countrymen hate mine as much as mine hate yours.” Jord began, “I also think there is no one as stubborn as my prince, although yours runs a close second. And if you want to help Damianos, as you say you do, you should try and convince him to get Laurent out of this city as quickly as possible.”

“I think Damen is beyond listening to me-“ Nikandros began, before being interrupted.

“He’ll listen to you because he trusts you. He’ll listen because even though he may not want to admit it, he knows, they both do, that they need to take back their own kingdoms before ever trying to unite them.”

Nikandros stared for a moment, sure that that was the most words Jord had spoken to him in weeks.

It was also the soundest advice he had heard, as it went along with his own thoughts.

Nikandros heaved a sigh before speaking, “He may trust me, and he may even know it’s the right thing, but you…”

He stopped lost in thought for a moment before a slight smirk lifted one side of his mouth.

Jord waited for a moment before prompting, “I what?”

“I was going to say you have no idea what it’s like when Damen digs his feet in and won’t let something go. I realized though that you know exactly what that is like.”

Jord released a breath of laughter, “I know something of a stubborn sovereign.”

It was Nikandros’ turn to release a laugh, and the air around them eased some.

“I apologize if it seemed like I was wanting you to answer for Laurent, that wasn’t my intent.” He replied, hoping the apology would continue to ease the man in front of him.

Jord had always been quiet, even closed off in all the time Nikandros had known him. They had worked closely in the battles for their princes’ and come out of them respectful of each other. But the thrill he felt at the hesitant light that know shown in the other man’s eyes surprised him.

Jord was shorter than he by half a head. Sure in his movements, deadly with a sword, but graceful as well; he was built the way a man should be in Nikandros’ eyes. Just older than Nikandros himself Jord seemed to have lived many lives over. The knowledge and leadership he showed was often tempered by an unknown diffidence that left his eyes pale and jaw hardened.

Nikandros had lived long enough to know that look was the look of a man who had been betrayed. And betrayed more than once, by some of those closest to him.

“Thank you. And I apologize for being quick to judge your intentions. And I thank you for speaking my native tongue, your language still confuses me even after learning it years ago.” Jord answered, more relaxed now that the conversation had moved away from their joint military problem.

Not wanting the conversation to end yet he asked, “You’re the first Veretian I’ve met, outside of dignitaries or royalty, that speak Akelian. Did you choose to learn the language of your enemy, or was it part of your training as captain of Laurent’s guard?”

Jord had nodded his head and the two began walking, toward what he didn’t know, but Nikandros had made the decision to follow the Veretian to wherever he led.

Their conversation had continued well into the night. Their mutual respect grew, their understanding of the other man became apparent, and they parted as the morning light filtered into Jord’s chamber. It was the first they had spent together; it only took two more before their conversation ended with Nikandros invading Jord’s mouth with his tongue. Moving the Veretian to his bed and claiming him as he had wished to do since first seeing him on the battle field.

~*~*~*~

Their time was done now though. And Nikandros watched as Jord worked on dressing, tying the ties that encased all Veretians. Nothing as severe as Laurent’s, but enough that he thought Jord was doing as much hiding behind his as Laurent had done.

Unsure of what to do, of where they stood he remained quiet. Watching and knowing that Jord was trying to straighten himself as quickly as possible, trying to leave without the frustration that was radiating off his body from boiling over. A frustration that had been born as soon as they parted and left the balcony to begin returning to their normal lives. A frustration that he didn’t understand and Jord hadn’t explained.

Eventually Nikandros could stand it no longer and he approached the irritated man. Reaching out he remained just out of reach as Jord recoiled from him. Surprise shocked him into stillness and he watched as Jord turned away and continued his final preparations.

“Jord?” The man in front of him was a stranger. Gone was the gruff captain, the brilliant military mind, and even the insistent and demanding lover. This was a man possessed by his demons and yearning for escape.

Picking up his boots and heading for the door Jord had a hand on the doorknob before he finally stopped. Nikandros stood speechless, confusion clouding all thoughts he had, not understanding the sudden way with which they were parting.

This was not to be how they were. Nikandros had struggled in the beginning, he was not one to fall into bed so quickly or easily. But he had understood, they both had, that while they were enjoying their time together it was to have an end date that they could not extend. He had hated it, but he had done it for Jord. It was the only request Jord had asked of him. “When it is done, it is done.” Those were Jord’s words and Nikandros had agreed to them.

Without turning Jord spoke, “Please take care of yourself.”

Nikandros heard the desperation in Jord’s voice, it matched the thoughts circling his own mind. “I will, please do the same.”

“We will see each other again.” It was a statement of truth, not a question, but it left him feeling cold as it came out of Jord’s mouth.

Jord’s next words though, froze everything within him. “When we do, we cannot do this. We must be strangers to one another. We must serve our king’s as we should, for they will both be king by then. But you will be the Kyros of Ios and I will be the captain of His Highnesses’ guard, that is all. We will not fall into each other again.”

It was final confirmation of Jord’s original request, but he had not expected it to burn a spot so large in his chest. They were ending now, why could they not see each other again when they met once more? Why did Jord need such a complete and total break? Why was the man not even letting him say goodbye as he had hoped he would be able to? Anger, quick and strong flared to life in the burned spot. Anger born from hurt that stunned Nikandros into speaking without his usual thoughtfulness.

“You requested that our time together end when we parted. You think I’m a man that would beg to be let back into your bed?”

Jord did not reply beyond setting his shoulders impossibly harder and wrenching the door open, slamming it behind him and stalking down the hall.

Nikandros remained still for a moment before furiously swiping everything off the table next to him. All thoughts of quiet words, long embraces, and hesitant goodbyes with a promise to see each other again wiped wholly from his mind. Jord had asked for an end, Nikandros had hoped the end would come more hopefully than the angry words he had spoken.

He had no time to contemplate his heart, or where it stood even if he wished it. A knock came to his door, a request from Damen to see him immediately.

Dressing quickly and refusing the offer of food that came to his door, Nikandros stalked heavily through the palace glaring at any and all that approached. In the walk to Damen’s chamber he let his mind roam for a moment.

Nikandros couldn’t blame what had happened with Jord on anything more than the need for an outlet, a release, and they had both been able to find that in the other’s body. But they had also found a confidant, man of their own mind, and for Nikandros he had found someone who had been the first person he wished to bring to bed in a very long time. A man that had moved something within him in their short time together. A man that had given much, but had held even more back. A man that had left and pushed Nikandros away as hard as possible. A man that was suddenly and startlingly in front of him as he entered Damen’s rooms.

“Why are you here?” the anger coursed through his words making them come out clipped and low.

“Nikandros?” the sound of Damen’s voice and the question there brought him back in line.

“He’s here,” came Laurent’s languid voice from somewhere to his left, “because he is captain of my guard. Something you hopefully remembered as you were fucking him.”

“Laurent…” Nikandros heard the exasperation is Damen’s voice, the closest he had ever come to hearing contention between the two over the last month.

Nikandros’ jaw hardened, he worried for a moment he would break a tooth with the grinding.

“Exalted,” Nikandros was beyond anger, falling back on formality to make sure he did not physically lash out at the Veretian’s in the room. “Do you need me here for any other reason than to be insulted? I seem to be the Veretian’s whipping boy today, would you like to take a turn?”

Damen’s eyes widened as they met his, Nikandros could never remember having spoken such to his best friend. Tension filled the air and even Laurent was quiet for a moment.

Nikandros should be ashamed for behaving this way. For letting the events of the morning keep him so far from himself. For letting Laurent and Jord push him to such anger. But the last few months had taken their toll. He was not the man he was, no one could be after everything they had all been through.

Silence filled the room, reaching a breaking point as Laurent cleared his throat and spoke to Damen.

“You still believe he’s the best Akelion to act as ambassador to Vere?”

**Author's Note:**

> Not exactly sure where this is going, but I'm committed on finishing it. Updates will come as I get the chapters written. Thanks for reading!


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